


tuck my hair behind my ears and touch my soul

by haloud



Series: open up my eager eyes [1]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Frottage, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Top Alex Manes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 15:32:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18702430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloud/pseuds/haloud
Summary: Kyle’s not drunk, and Kyle’s not stupid. The warning bells are ringing loud and clear. But he can’t say he’s never been curious, late at night, in his long-buried, hottest dreams. Michael runs his finger around the rim of Kyle’s glass then holds it up to the light, admiring the way a single drop of liquor reflects the neon.Kyle swallows. “Define adventurous,” he says.





	tuck my hair behind my ears and touch my soul

**Author's Note:**

> this is actually majority kylex actually getting it on with michael watching, though malex do have an established relationship in this fic. fair warning before you jump in.
> 
> title comes from the heart is a muscle by gang of youths
> 
> this fic is not for redistribution without my express permission.

It starts at the Wild Pony, that breeding ground for bad ideas.

It starts at the Wild Pony, where Kyle rarely goes, preferring to do his drinking at home with a book or the game on and his feet up rather than sticking to the floor of a bar. It starts with Michael’s finger hooked through his belt loop, and Kyle’s not stupid enough to follow Michael Guerin into an alleyway, but Michael puts his chin on his shoulder and grins that cowboy grin and says,

“So, Doc, you ever think my man deserves a little something special?”

Kyle rolls his eyes and takes a gulp of his scotch. The faster it goes down, the faster he can get away from whatever scheme Guerin’s concocting. “Talk to Liz or Maria if you’re trying to think of a gift for him. God knows you owe him one,” he says, unable to stop himself from firing that shot.

“Oh, trust me, I’m workin’ _real_ hard on forgiveness.” Michael tugs his finger sharply, hauling Kyle in by the hip, making his chair scoot across the floor. “And I ain’t the hearts and flowers type. I already know the number one thing on his Christmas list and I’m gettin’ an early start.”

“So what _exactly_ does this have to do with me?”

“You’re gonna help me give it to him, Doc. That is…if you’re feeling adventurous tonight.”

Kyle’s not drunk, and Kyle’s not stupid. The warning bells are ringing loud and clear. But he can’t say he’s never been _curious_ , late at night, in his long-buried, hottest dreams. Michael runs his finger around the rim of Kyle’s glass then holds it up to the light, admiring the way a single drop of liquor reflects the neon.

Kyle swallows. “Define adventurous,” he says.

Michael licks liquid courage off his finger, eyes shining with triumph.

\--

It starts when Alex answers the door all brittle and angry.

“Guerin, you’d better have a good explanation for disappearing instead of doing what—” he cuts himself off mid-rant, eyes going almost comically wide when he notices Kyle standing off to the side, hands shoved in his pockets.

“If you guys have unfinished business, I can hit the road,” Kyle says. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“No need for that, Doc. I think Alex would agree that you’re right where you need to be right now.” Michael rocks on the balls of his feet, a little smile hovering on his face. He won’t quite meet Alex’s eyes, not until Alex strides as quickly across the porch as his crutch will allow to grab his chin and force him to. A long moment passes, Alex’s eyes searching Michael’s face as Michael stares steadily. Finally, Michael nods, and Alex drops his hand to his shoulder, closes his eyes, and takes a deep and steadying breath.

“Okay,” he says, blowing the air out in a huff. He turns to Kyle, something unknowable swirling in those well-known eyes. “I guess you should come in.”

\--

It starts when Kyle’s back hits the mattress with a _whump._ Alex is standing above him, head cocked to the side, just watching. Kyle props himself up on his elbows and lets his gaze drag his childhood friend from head to toe, taking everything in. The strength of his jaw, the column of his neck, the breadth of his shoulders…is Kyle really doing this? _Can_ he do this? Like, okay, he’s enough of an adult now to admit that sometimes guys are hot, that his youthful dickishness was mostly insecurity about his own identity with a heaping helping of ego. But actually _being_ with a guy isn’t something he’s seriously considered…

Not until Michael Guerin found him already acting uncharacteristic, with determination in his swagger.

Not until he found himself on his back for Alex Manes, dick growing harder by the second just from being pinned under his studying soldier’s eyes.

“Michael, you’re going to sit in that chair and behave for once,” Alex says, not looking away. “And you’re going to remind the both of us what you did to deserve sitting out while I enjoy my gift.”

Michael’s lower lip juts out in a pout, but he says with shockingly little shame, “I broke my promise to stay in contact if I needed space, and I made you worry. Then I went out again without telling you after we hashed it out. To get Kyle.”

“Communication is key, after all,” Alex replies, smirking. “It’s a learning process for both of us. I’m not mad anymore, but this is going to help the lesson stick. Now take your seat, and I expect you to keep your comments to yourself as well.”

With a long, dramatic sigh, Michael snags a beer waiting on the end table and folds himself into the corner armchair sideways, long legs hanging off onto the floor, head propped on the arm of the chair so he can watch what happens on the bed.

“Now.” Alex leans his crutch against the wall, then gives Kyle his undivided attention. “Stand up. I want to see what I’m working with.”

Kyle slides off the bed, stuffs his hands in his pockets again. Wonders what the hell he’s doing here, in his father’s old cabin, about to—

Alex’s voice pulls him out of his head. “Well, you’re no Max Evans, but you’ll do.”

Kyle jerks his head up at the same time Michael makes a scalded, gagging noise from the corner. Alex cackles at his own awful joke, and Kyle shakes his head, unable to keep a smile off his face himself now that some of the tension is gone.

“How about you take your shirt off, Kyle? Let me see the body you spend all that time working on.” Alex sits down on the edge of the bed, reclining back on his hands. His eyes narrow as he waits for Kyle to react—to argue, to storm out?—and a faint smile still tugs at his lips. Like he could start laughing at any moment, and Kyle is torn between getting defensive (didn’t come here to be laughed at, don’t know why I came at all) and a rip current of fondness (always smiling, so strong, the Alex he always thought of as _his_ Alex in the quiet of his own mind, even after he lost that right).

Instead of picking either of those two options, he jerks his t-shirt over his head in one fluid motion.

Michael whistles appreciatively, and Alex ignores him. He spreads his knees and curls a beckoning finger, reeling Kyle in until he’s standing between his legs, all close enough to touch.

“Good to see that vanity has its perks,” Alex quips, eyes stroking Kyle’s chest. He feels them in the hollow of his throat, against his ribs. His stomach clenches under their weight. “Now tell me. What are you doing here, Valenti?”

What a fucking question.

“Well, Guerin came to find me, and—”

“I know how you got here. I asked you what you’re _doing_ here.”

Kyle’s stomach clenches again; Alex’s tone brings unexpected heat to the surface of his skin. His nipples tighten, exposed to the air, and he fights the urge to fold his arms to protect himself, like a virgin.

Alex is still expecting an answer. He arches a single eyebrow, and Kyle breaks.

“I don’t know where this is going or how far I _can_ go, but I figured ‘what the hell,’ you know? And to be honest, this kind of feels like it’s been a long time coming. At least for me.”

“Well, it’s true that I’ve had a long time to think about what I’d do to you if I ever got you here. I am, officially, way ahead of you.”

Everything about Alex is wicked. Smirking mouth, dark eyes, the little hint of skin peeking out from his collar that Kyle has a wild urge to taste. _Temptation._ It only gets worse when Alex stands up. The inch between their heights could be a foot for all Kyle wants to curl up under Alex’s sheer _presence._

Alex continues, “Lucky for you, I’m in a pretty good mood. And you’ve been on your best behavior lately, haven’t you?”

He pairs his words with the first, faintest touch—a fingertip skimming the crease where the v of Kyle’s groin begins. Kyle’s hips jerk forward like he’s been electrocuted, and a throaty chuckle from Michael’s corner fills the room. Blood rushes to his cock; blood rushes to his cheeks. The contrast makes his head spin. He has to look away from Alex before he passes out, so his eyes fall on the other person in the room.

Michael’s mouth curls sinfully around the lip of the bottle and he takes a long pull of his beer, Adam’s apple bobbing once, twice, and again in the long column of his throat. All the while, he watches Kyle through lidded, glittering eyes. His mouth _pops_ off the glass, the tip of his tongue chasing the lingering wetness on his lower lip.

Alex’s thumbs dig with brutal precision into the dimples of Kyle’s lower back, forcing a gasp into his lungs and a sharp arch into his spine. His ass grinds into the unmistakable hardness of Alex’s cock—and then, helplessly, he rolls his hips back again, chasing that brand-new sensation. Alex’s hand flies up to press against his stomach, anchoring him with its heavy heat, encouraging each little movement. Forward motion brings delicious friction between the callouses of Alex’s palm and the Kyle’s sensitive skin. Backward motion makes him blush so hard his ears are ringing; makes muscles he can barely bear to think about catch and release. He’s so hard it makes him ache.

He can’t stop. Doesn’t even want to. This should be weird, right? He should be weirded out by this? It’s not something Kyle’s ever spent much time thinking about, being with a man. The logistics of it, the practicalities, the visceral, physical difference in how a man’s body would feel running against his. And it’s all happening so fast, he’s hard as a rock, he wants all these things he barely even has words for—he’s grinding on his childhood friend’s crotch like the school slut on prom night and all he wants is _more._

“Aren’t you just full of surprises?” Alex murmurs. He grabs Kyle’s hips, forces them to still so Alex can frot directly where Kyle wants him, right against the crack of has ass. It sends a bolt of both apprehension and pure pleasure right down his spine, even through multiple layers of cotton and denim. It feels so good it forces Kyle to bend at the waist, to go onto his tiptoes, to give Alex all the space he needs to do _whatever he wants,_ as long as he doesn’t _stop._ Kyle can feel pre dripping from the head of his cock, a sopping wet spot forming in his boxer briefs, but he doesn’t even care if he comes in his pants as long as he gets some relief and _soon._ The only sound in the room is stuttered breathing, little _ah ah ah_ desperate sounds, and they’re all coming from _him._ The realization just brings a whole, full-throated moan to his lips. Michael gasps when he lets it out, and Alex croons a wordless, soothing sound that Kyle wishes he could wrap around himself at night.

The bed dips under Alex’s added weight, and Kyle turns his head to look at him. He forces his lips to form words and says, “Is this alright? Your leg—”

A flicker passes over Alex’s face, but he takes a deep breath and just kisses Kyle on the temple. “It’s fine. I’ve been using the crutch more around the house again, keeping weight off it…not for situations _just_ like this, but hey, whatever works.” He winks, then gets serious again. “Just figured that hey, what do I have to prove? There’s no sense in acting like it didn’t happen, like pretending will make it go away, so it’s time to live with it. Your concern is touching, truly—”

Kyle cuts him off with a kiss, a real one, their first. It’s an awkward angle, but that doesn’t stop him from opening his mouth to swipe his tongue across Alex’s for the first, intoxicating taste of him. Alex grips his hair firmly to regain control, and Kyle has to break away to gasp for air, his every muscle trembling and weak.

Alex tastes like the same beer Michael’s drinking, and Kyle would love for the three of them to be drunk together. Collapsing face down on the duvet, Kyle breathes in the clean scent of lemon detergent and Alex’s skin and tries to regain his equilibrium.

Michael groans loudly, insistently, and Alex says, “I should remind you to be quiet, but honestly I have to agree.” Alex shucks his own shirt and tosses it to the side, then approaches Kyle’s prone body. “You’ve always been hot, Valenti, but I had no idea you had this in you. Do you like a firm hand, is that it? I guess now we know what you saw in Liz—or, rather, what she saw in you.”

Medical science is for assholes, Kyle rapidly decides. Spontaneous combustion is totally possible and should, in fact, happen _right now._

While Kyle squirms, Alex rearranges some pillows to support his knee. “Lift up,” he says, tugging Kyle’s hips into place and slotting the remaining pillow beneath them.

A long moment passes, and in it Kyle searches himself again for any hesitation, any lingering freakout, but there’s just…nothing. Nothing but lust, nothing but the ache low in his belly and between his legs. Nothing but rapidly-growing need for Alex hard and hot behind him, above him.

“It’s time to get these jeans off,” Alex says. He pauses for a protest with his hand on Kyle’s belt buckle, but when nothing comes he doesn’t hesitate to strip Kyle down to his final layer of protection.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The snap of Alex’s fingers makes Kyle jump, and the snap in his voice draws the barest, embarrassing vibration of a moan into his throat. He dares to raise his head from the mattress just enough to see Michael frozen half-risen from his chair, muscles in his arms trembling lightly as he holds his position.

“I was just trying to see better—” Michael’s voice goes soft and whiny and, shock of shocks, Kyle dick throbs in sympathy. He’d find it hard to sit still too if all he could do was look and not touch.

“Stay right there and _behave._ I’ll deal with you later,” Alex says. Kyle shivers in pure relief, goosebumps prickling on every inch of his skin. Thank god he’s not the one being made to wait, not now, not when everything is so raw, so new, so real.

Michael’s throat bobs one more time, like he’s still got a mouthful of liquor. Slowly, he lowers himself back down and drawls, “Aye aye, Captain,” like the insolent little fuck he always is. He settles down, draped like a cat and just as observant.

A muscle ticks in Alex’s jaw, and that little show of anger and restraint is so fucking hot it makes Kyle’s toes curl. Maybe if Kyle’s good Alex will let him watch _later_ like he’s letting Michael watch now. His ears burn at the thought, but honestly the prospect of a repeat performance of this…whatever this is…is looking better and better all the time.

Alex notices anyway. Kyle snaps his gaze back to the plain gray duvet only a millisecond after Alex’s molten-dark eyes spot him watching, but it’s still too late. Alex bends languidly until his chest brushes the skin of Kyle’s back and his lips caress the overheated shell of his ear.

“Something you want to say, Valenti?” He purrs, hips beginning a teasing roll against the meat of Kyle’s thigh. “You starting to feel neglected? Well, we can’t have that.”

God, it’s so fucking hot, the only air to breathe searing his lungs like a car that’s been baking in the sun from dawn to dusk. This time, for the first time, Kyle’s answering moan is loud and shameless and just inches shy of begging, and Alex laughs just as shamelessly, nipping his ear before straightening up and increasing his rhythm. Kyle moans again, quieter but no less desperate, nuzzling into his own folded arms to hide his face. From across the room, Michael lets out a harmonizing hum.

 _God,_ what is Alex doing to him? What’s he done to Michael? How is it that he can keep the both of them dancing on strings by barely lifting a finger? Alex has always had presence—and sure, there’s been a girl or two capable of bringing Kyle to his knees, he’s not ashamed of it—but Alex like _this?_ He’s a goddamn maestro, and Kyle and Michael are nothing but instruments bent to his will.

“Are you ready to lose these?” Alex snaps the waistband of Kyle’s boxer briefs. Despite the inevitable direction things have been heading, the question still catches Kyle off guard, and he stills, unsure.

Does he want this? He’s crossed a hell of a lot of lines already this evening, but this is the first one that feels like the point of no return. It’ll be hard enough to go to work tomorrow still feeling the scratch and burn of Alex’s calloused hands on oversensitive skin; it’ll be hard enough dealing with Michael ever again and not going shivering and open at his smirking mouth and whiskey-light gaze. If they go any further, Kyle’s gonna come out changed, and he just…he just needs a moment.

“If you’re not comfortable, all you gotta do is say so,” Michael interjects. “Trust me, Alex’ll make it good no matter what.”

“Hush,” Alex replies, but there’s a smile in his voice.

Turning his attention back to Kyle, Alex drags his hands firmly from the top of Kyle’s spine to his tailbone, leaving two blazing, trembling trails of sensation behind. Compared to what Kyle’s known before, Alex’s hands feel massive, inescapable, spanning almost the whole width of his back in sweeping, spine-tingling caresses. Kyle grits his teeth as, helplessly, his hips twitch and the muscles of his ass contract.

“What do you say, Kyle? You’ve already been humping the pillow, moving your ass like you’re hungry for it. Don’t you want to know what it feels like to rub your skin against my cock with nothing in between?” He presses a hot, wet kiss to the back of Kyle’s neck.

Kyle surrenders the only way he knows how, nodding jerkily, letting his legs fall open and easy. His voice is lost, but all he wants Alex to know is _yes, yes, yes, yes._

“I need you to use your words, Kyle.”

“God, yes! Yeah, ok, yes, just _do_ it, god—”

“Good.” Alex says, following up his words with his tongue licking a filthy swipe across Kyle’s ear. Kyle gasps and twitches away from the sensation, only to wind up frozen like a rabbit in a trap when Alex runs a fingertip across the skin at his waistband. The contrasting sensations are driving him out of his mind; if Alex so much as touched his cock right now he’d come in his pants like a dumb kid.

“Hurry,” Kyle whines, trying to drag his hips against the bed, both for the delicious friction on his aching groin and as an attempt to squirm out of his clothes.

“You know, I’m glad you’re so eager,” Alex says conversationally, rolling Kyle’s waistband until the curve of his ass is exposed. He shudders at the caress of air and expectation. “You’re sweet,” Alex continues with a low, throaty chuckle, “and it’s a nice surprise. I was afraid you’d pull some throwback machismo bullshit, but no, you’re so well behaved. Maybe Michael should be taking notes.”

“Fuck!” Kyle’s shout drowns out Michael’s angry hiss. The words of praise send an unexpected ripple of heat through Kyle—heart-pounding, belly-clenching heat that forces him to scramble to get a hand around his cock, to hold off his suddenly imminent orgasm. Alex is faster, though, and before Kyle knows what’s happening he’s spread-eagle and immobile, Alex’s knees bracketing his thighs, his hands pinioning his wrists. And Kyle can’t do anything but sob—it’s too overwhelming, he’s trapped and he’s throbbing and he’s probably disappointed Alex which for reasons Kyle can’t explain makes him want to throw up and hide.

But no. Instead of—any of those things that make Kyle sick with fear, all Alex does is loosen his hold and say, “Everything alright, Valenti? If we need to slow the roll a little bit, It’s okay. It’s whatever you need.”

Kyle sucks in a watery breath. Everything still feels more wrong than it did just moments ago, and before he can stop himself he says, “It’s just that I was about to come. I…didn’t want to end things before they really got going.”

Then it’s Alex’s turn to hiss. His hands tighten briefly, almost enough to leave little bruising rings around Kyle’s wrists. If he pushed up against that grip, they wouldn’t budge at all, and something about that thought sends another pulse through Kyle’s groin. Then the tight hold disappears, and Kyle is left clenching his fists and wishing he could have it back.

“Roll over.”

Alex’s voice is kind but still firm, still in control. Kyle doesn’t want to argue, wants to keep riding this headspace where it’s so easy just to follow orders, just to lie still and be what Alex tells him to be. But he’s not sure he can do this—let Alex see every inch of him, bare his face to Alex’s endless gaze.

“I’d rather not,” he chokes out, wiping his face on the bedsheet to remove the worst of the mess—the tear tracks, the thin line of drool.

“I want to check in with you. Switch things up a bit. It’s okay, Kyle.” Gentle hands wrap around his hips and nudge them to turn.

“Don’t be shy, Doc,” Michael says. And it’s actually the fact that Kyle can tell Michael hasn’t moved—that he’s still following Alex’s orders too—that gives Kyle the strength to obey.

“There you are,” Alex says, and—

_God._

He’s so fucking beautiful. It’s all Kyle can think—it bundles up his breath inside his chest and then shakes it all loose at once. His mouth, pink and full, curved into a warm smile. The way his skin glows in the low light, impossibly even and smooth. Those dark eyes; his hair, sweaty and tousled and—Kyle knows now, he’s kissed that mouth, he’s had that skin against his skin, he knows how soft that hair is through his fingers.

No wonder Guerin’s addicted.

“Seriously, are you okay?” Alex’s head tilts adorably, but his smile fades a bit. He brushes his thumb across Kyle’s cheek, and Kyle instinctively turns into the touch, pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb.

“Y-yeah. I’m okay.” His voice breaks; he clears his throat. “This is all kind of a lot, but,” he bucks his hips, bringing attention back to his still-hard dick, “I can handle whatever you can dish out, Manes.”

Michael whoops in triumph from across the room. It’s just this side of mocking, but when Kyle glances his way, he sees that Michael’s just as hard as he is, with no hope of relief. Their eyes lock for a moment; Michael winks at him and licks his lips suggestively.

“Eyes on me, Kyle.” The steel has returned to Alex’s voice, and his weight resettles on the tops of Kyle’s thighs. “If you encourage him, it’ll only make it worse for him later. You know, if we keep doing this, he’ll try to get you in trouble.”

“You love it,” Michael drawls, blowing them a kiss.

“Not tonight. Tonight is all about Kyle.”

“No arguments here. He’s giving me plenty to think about.”

Alex massages a soothing hand against Kyle’s shoulder and leans their foreheads together for a kiss. “What do you want now?” he asks when they part: “What do you want to do next?”

Kyle gulps, but having Alex so close, it’s—there’s no way to not be honest. He’s unstoppable. Forceful, just in his breathing, in his smiling. Magnetic.

“I…I kind of liked how it was before. Me on my front. I-I also liked you holding me down, it was…” Kyle’s voice dies out, but from the fire ignited in Alex’s eyes, he’s already said plenty. Alex’s strong hands flip him over again, readjust the pillow to force his ass up at an angle. Kyle arches his back to force it up even higher and grinds his cock into the soft surface as part of the bargain. They both went a little soft during the check-in, but that situation _rapidly_ reverses as Alex runs his hands over Kyle’s ass and the backs of his thighs. The muscles of Kyle’s thighs twitch and jump at every touch, and he _whines._

“You really are made for this. It’s incredible.”

Kyle hears the sound of Alex’s jeans hitting the floor. His fingers are starting to cramp where he’s clutching the sheets.

“I’m not fucking you tonight. That was never in the cards,” Alex says, running a finger down the crack of Kyle’s ass all the same. Kyle muffles a sob with his teeth sunk into his own arm. “But even then, I can get a head start on the planning, what do you say?”

What Kyle says is something along the lines of _mgmphl,_ which is honestly eloquent considering his circumstances.

“Yeah, I think there’s a lot we’re going to explore, Valenti. However long it takes, we’re going to see how deep this need of yours to present your ass and beg goes. Will it be enough just to get my cock, or will you need Guerin’s too?”

Kyle rolls his hips into the pillow without rhythm, just chasing any release he can get, but it’s not good enough, not anymore, not without Alex pressing back against him.

“Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Someone as untouched and needy as you—you’d go to pieces with a single finger, wouldn’t you? Just a little stretch, until you get used to it and have to find something bigger to satisfy you. Does that sound good?”

“Alex, Alex, please,” Kyle groans, trying to wave his ass to get him to do _something_ other than drive him crazy with promises. He only succeeds in losing his balance, one knee slipping out from under him and leaving him splayed without any leverage to get friction at all, and all he can do is _whine._

And Alex pounces. Kyle doesn’t know when he dropped his own underwear, but _finally_ here’s all of him—every muscle, all that skin, and his cock dragging between the cheeks of Kyle’s ass like they were made to fit together. Kyle releases the sheets to yank at his own hair instead, squirming helplessly back against Alex’s weight, unable to do anything but gasp and cry out and beg for a hand on his cock to help him out.

Alex finally shows mercy, wrapping his _wonderful, amazing_ palm around Kyle’s shaft and jerking it in time with the roll of his hips. But it’s just as much the next words Alex growls in his ear that tips Kyle over the edge—

“I’ll get you a toy just for you, something you can stuff up inside yourself when you’re feeling hot and lonely and needing this, needing cock, needing _me—_ I’ll send Guerin out looking for you and bring you back here to me already open and ready, sink inside you and stay there for hours and send you back home stuffed again—”

Kyle comes with a choked cry, hips jerking clumsily, every muscle in his body clenched for a long, glorious moment before he melts back into the blankets and pillows, utterly boneless. Alex abandons his words in favor of fucking himself against Kyle’s ass and thighs, until he raises himself up and brings himself off with his hand, come striping scalding-hot and claiming against Kyle’s lower back.

They collapse together, panting harshly, Alex kissing and licking at Kyle’s shoulder blades while Kyle tries to come back down to earth. With a gloriously open laugh, Alex rolls off of Kyle’s back and pulls him into his arms. Kyle joins in on the laughter, butting his forehead into Alex’s shoulder, breathless and giddy and young.

“Get over here, Guerin,” Alex says, reaching out his other arm to make room. Predictably, however, Michael swaggers over and flops himself fully clothed right in between Kyle and Alex, worming his way into both their embraces. It puts him squarely on the wet spot, though, and his hair is soft, and he smells just the same as Alex. So it’s not like Kyle is complaining.

At least until he opens his mouth again, that is.

“Next time you do that to me, I’m making a porno,” Michael says, and Alex shuts him up with a kiss.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i go by the same name on discord and @haloudd on twitter, and my rnm sideblog is cosmicsolipsism.tumblr.com. it's where you go to love and support kyle valenti (and his journey to becoming the bottom he was always meant to be, apparently)


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